


The end of the affair.

by explodingstars



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 16:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/explodingstars/pseuds/explodingstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A casual encounter between two strangers in a london bar that may lead to something more.<br/>Because we all need some smuttbatch with us!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The end of the affair.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is my first work here and one of my first ones in english so I hope you enjoy. I'm thinking about doing more chapters but I'm still not sure, so I'll really apreciate if you give me some feedback.  
> If you think this can turn into something bigger please leave a comment with your oppinion c: I'm really thankfull for my BETA! You can follow her at lipstickaffairs.tumblr.com  
> Follow me too! alice-in-the-tea-party.tumblr.com

He smelled like cigarettes.  
Even if the bar itself held the typical smell, he smelled different, like an expensive cognac and cigar that only some people were capable of enjoying, not the rich but the classy and powerful ones.  
He said his name was John.

“Mary.” I answered.

It was the first affair.

 

He came to my table with the excuse of not finding a place to sit and offered me a drink. He toasted to me with a sardonic look and downed half of it in one gulp. I tried to follow his example but this was not my kind of drink; a strong kind of whiskey that burned the back of my throat, but after a moment, I found myself asking for another.  
“John” I called him “why are you here? You don’t seem the kind of guy with no friends.” I looked at the luxurious Rolex on his left wrist. Even his hands looked like having a better manicure than mine. “You don’t look like you are from around here.”

He looked at me for a brief moment and after sipping a little bit from his glass of bourbon, answered.  
“I like to know every place in the city and I’ve heard a lot of this one particularly.”  
It was true. Even if the bar wasn’t the most popular or the most expensive, it did count with the best music in London and a few newspapers mentioned it in the list of “weekend-must-go-places”. I came because it was relatively close to my apartment and the bartender was some sort of friend of mine. He had been a good listener when I told him about the experience it was for me to come to the big city and he got to the conclusion that every Friday we would talk about our work. Today he had a full house and I ended up with a man who needed a seat and nothing more. Great. 

We remained in silence for a few minutes listening to the jazz band. Almost five songs had passed and I started to feel awkward so I decided to go home and maybe look for a cheesy movie and some reheated Chinese noodles with my dog to end my not so successful night out. I was about to get money from my purse when he stood up and got a few bills of his wallet that quickly were forgotten on the table. 

“If you wait for me I can take you home, Mary.” The name was purred in a low tone that couldn’t be more suggestive if not for the music on the background.  
I was surprised feeling myself blushing “Very thoughtful of you John, but I can walk to my flat, it’s not very far from here.” I wanted to go home, a part of me was starting to get anxious.  
All it took were two steps from his chair to mine and his body was mere inches away from me; his tall figure slightly hovering over, one of his hands reaching mine. Even with my highest heels, I still looked shorter than him.

“It’s cold outside. Please, let me take you.”

His pleading was almost holding a double sense and without thinking twice, I said yes, I couldn’t deny to his petition. We walked to the door and he was already in his long coat when we were standing outside. He seemed so warm and sadly I only had a light white sweater over the short orange dress I was wearing, but that was the price I had to pay for the vanity that grew on me when I bought the dress. London nights were chilly even in September, but being from somewhere else, I had not gotten used to it. He took out a pack of cigarettes and offered me one. I took it and he lighted mine as a gentleman would do. He had to maintain his pose.

We walked in silence the first three blocks and differently to other nights, this was a lonely one. I was almost freezing, but I didn’t wanted him to notice, and I needed a distraction so I started to observe him. I tried as hard as I could to not stare like a child, but in a flirtatious way. I played with my hair and his face was the first thing I noticed about him; his long and fine features that matched only in his being, his long neck that went down to a milky white chest covered by a blue shirt, the first two buttons undone. He took another breath of the cigarette and then I noticed his hands; long and slender fingers with clean cut nails and only a watch on the left one. I turned right on the fourth street and he followed me. We kept walking until a drop of water from the movie theater marquee we were passing by extinguished my cigarette and I had to stop, he was a couple steps ahead.  
“Fuck.” I said slightly mad as I threw away the cigarette end to the floor. My heel did the last job by killing what remained of the burning paper. “I wasn’t even near the half of it.” I looked at the now flat-against-the-floor-cig and started walking again. 

I hadn’t taken my third step, almost passing in front of him when I felt his hand on my wrist, making me turn and face him. I was about to protest when he took a breath of his cigarette and pulled me close. I watched as he opened his mouth and suddenly all the smoke in his lungs was inside my mouth. His lips against mine felt delightful and I took the deepest breath I could, I wanted to feel him inside me; it wasn’t a kiss, it was heat and warmth from a body to another, something so intimate that I had never experienced before. When I stepped away to let out the air all the fog clouded our faces and a light breeze made it disappear up in the sky. After seconds that felt like years of staring into his eyes, I looked down again and my mind reminded me that a complete stranger was holding me. I tried to move but his hand kept me still, and after the cigarette was quickly disposed, the other one landed on my waist to end the last bit of space between us. My hands tried to push his chest but I was too late; I realized we were now kissing and what began as a sweet and chaste touch of lips was now becoming something more. I could feel his tongue brushing against my lips, asking for a permit for entrance and I didn’t resist. I opened my mouth and our tongues started a battle for domination. When it seemed that he was losing the game his teeth marked my lips with soft bites that only made me tighten my grip on his shirt. 

He pushed me delicately and as I took the third step, my brain registered that we were going to the alley. All I could smell was smoke and oil mixed with yesterday’s rain and if I was a claustrophobic person, I forgot about that almost instantly, the space seemed so big that I happily complied and kept walking until we were far enough from the streets, but with enough light, I couldn’t stop staring at his eyes.  
He broke the kiss only to go lower, planting little pecks on my neck and my jaw line. Now one of his hands was on my chest fighting with the chiffon neck of my dress. I giggled at the sight of his exasperation and kissed him back, now slower and in a more erotic way. I wasn’t able to keep my hands still and started undoing the buttons of his shirt. His chest was soft and broad, full of freckles and I kissed them as I caressed his sides, his low voice giving me a groan of satisfaction. His other hand went to my leg, caressing it and I moaned into his collarbone at the touch. His erection was now poking my inner thigh through the fabric, I started to tease him, rubbing myself against his hips, and it wasn’t long before his hand lifted my dress and slipped between my legs. His long fingers started to stimulate me over my underwear and I could feel my wetness growing.  
“Eager, aren't you darling?” His arm surrounded me after the unsuccessful struggle with my dress and embraced me. He locked his gaze on mine; his once blue eyes were now obscure and lustful as one of his fingers pulled down my panties that were left on the ground. Luckily for me, the spot we were standing was a dry and sort of clean. The magic he started doing with his mere tips made my eyes shut tight; how he used his digits making patterns and teasing my entrance was driving me crazy. He kissed my neck.

“You are so damn gorgeous”. 

With his husky voice in my ear, he bit my neck and his fingers entered me with a single thrust, leaving me breathless for a moment. He slowly started to caress my walls and I briefly spread my legs, which were now shaking. I gripped his shoulder and my other hand went down trying to free him from the last layer between us. I undid the zipper and the button and took hold of him in my hand; his shaft was already glistening with precum. I played with it for a moment and then he took care of the situation.  
I lifted my leg with his help and he guided his tip, slowly teasing my clit and making me moan; he positioned himself and entered me slowly, taking his time to feel me and watch my expression of pure satisfaction and lust. I grabbed his back and pushed him inside me, we both groaned at the feeling of being one and my body jerked as I got used to the sensation of being stretched. I did my best to ignore the heat in my stomach every time he pressed himself against me, how my pulse hitched up several notches when he moaned in my ear, and the way his face looked different from the gentleman in the bar, but unfortunately I had no success. It was almost pornographic the way that the tone of his voice lowered even more than the normal way and for a brief moment I wished that my name fell from his lips, but that didn’t stop me from kissing him even more. I held him by his shoulders and he lifted me completely pulling my legs to his sides.  
I let out a little “huff” when he slammed me to the wall. Every time he pushed me against the cold bricks that felt rough as sandpaper I scratched the skin of my backside, but a mix of pleasure and pain that were only overcome by the feeling of his mouth all over my neck was all I needed to focus on him and nothing more.  
The vibration of his voice went under my skin to be felt on my vessels and nerves as my hands traveled up and down on his soft curls. His breath came now in a short, ragged rhythm, accompanied with even shorter groans against the sound of our flesh colliding. The heat in my stomach grew fuller and all it took was a quick look at him to let go of myself. My orgasm hit me hard and lasted longer because he kept thrusting into me. Judging by the way he kept going on I was sure he was close to the edge. I clenched my muscles and his hands came to my hips, pressing me downward to meet each stroke, his penis was growing thicker and his pulsation was more noticeable, now his moaning had turned guttural. One of his hands pressed against the wall while his hips ground harder into me and after a couple of thrust he came undone. His head fell on my shoulder and he held me again with both arms.  
We remained like that for a moment and I forced myself to remember how to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. After almost a minute, he pulled back and I shuddered at the loss of feeling full. My legs shook as he eased me to the ground and I kept my eyes closed as I heard the sound of his trousers being zipped up. I obliged myself to regain the strength on my legs, rearrange my clothes, and clumsily comb my hair. Finally, I opened my eyes and he was looking at me; he was standing in the dark, his hair was standing out in all directions. His lips were swollen and he had a little red mark on his chest. 

‘A little makeup will do. Or a scarf.’ I said to myself and restrained a smile.  
I felt a goose bump all over my legs. Even with high heels I managed to walk with a little of grace and I started going towards the street. I was about to exit the alley when I heard his hoarse voice forming a decent sentence again.

“I thought you were at least going to say goodbye.”

Cold wind blew again and a strand of hair fell on my face, tickling on my nose. I tucked it behind my ear and turned back to him, he was now in front of me and his clothes were in their proper place.

“And I thought you were cold, don’t you want some coffee?”

His hair was full of tangles and made him look messy, but then again, so was mine. He looked at me, his eyes went to my bare legs, and I guess he felt cold because he hugged himself into his coat.

“I’ll call a cab.” He said taking out his cellphone. 

“I live on the corner of the street, on the apartment complex.”

He turned his head to the three-floor building and then back at me. He smiled. 

“My name is not John.”

Then it was my turn to smile.

“I know.” 

I started walking to my flat and I heard his steps behind me.

“My name is not Mary.”


End file.
